


Fuel the Fire

by ginkyou



Category: Historical Criminals RPF
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Arson, Awkward Conversations, Carjacking, Chance Meetings, Crimes & Criminals, Hybristophilia, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginkyou/pseuds/ginkyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting a classmate in the middle of the woods is one thing, but holding one up at gunpoint is another.</p><p>AU: different first meeting, (subtly) hybristophilic Nathan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuel the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first draft to this in April 2015 and not only was it the first thing I'd written for this fandom, it was the first thing I'd written in a long time, so in a way this fic is very dear to me. Not beta'd.

Nathan had heard rumors about Richard long before he met him. Richard had quite the reputation – not one that would get him in trouble, but one that ensured that Nathan knew who he was the second he saw him for the first time. Richard was the sun in the center of an orbiting system of friends and acquaintances, and everyone knew someone who knew him in one way or another. Nathan, being just outside of the edge of Richard's solar system, not close enough to see the sun but constantly hearing reports about it, knew that Dick had some strange interests, and that he had said some weird things and laughed at inappropriate times. Nathan didn’t understand why, but the more he heard about Richard, the more he found his thoughts revolved around him.

Nathan had yet to get close enough to the mystical Richard to actually get to know him. Their planetary systems never overlapped – Nathan had his people and Richard had his own, and all Nathan could do was watch Richard from afar and try to suppress the ache in his chest.

The more he kept his ears open in Richard's direction the stranger the whispers he heard became, and for some curious reason, he found that his interest in Richard grew the stranger the rumors became. That, and the fact that Dick’s absences curiously aligned with reports of petty criminal activity in their neighborhood made him wonder. He spent a lot of time alone at night wondering about Richard. He also spent a lot of time alone at night doing other things while thinking about Richard, but that wasn't something he liked to talk about.

Nathan slowly made his way into Richard's social circle, staying on the outer edges but joining his complicated web of relationships like an asteroid caught by the pull of a planet's gravity. And somehow, as Nathan got closer to Richard – still out of sight, but part of his solar system now – and as the rumors grew weirder and weirder, he couldn't help but keep thinking about him, about them, about how he'd look with his arms splattered with gore up to his shirtsleeves, or the sight of him holding up a helpless woman in the back of a dark alley, or them luring a child into their car and taking it to some abandoned shack and then, with the corpse still warm in the back seat, they'd... But he always made himself snap out of it. Laws arguably might not have applied to them, but who knew if Richard was anything more than good looks and arrogant laughter and daring plans. So Nathan pined from afar, Richard always just out of reach.

 

Nathan was driving home after visiting friends and birding in the marshlands. The day had been fun but long and they had miscalculated just how long it would take them to get their kills together and drive back. Night had fallen earlier than he expected. Driving down some unlit country road in the dark wasn't exactly Nathan’s favorite activity but it was no big deal, his car had bright headlights after all, and the summer night was refreshingly chilly after stalking through hot marshlands under the burning heat of the sun all day.

At first he thought he could see the lights of the city shining through the trees but as he got closer it became obvious that what he was seeing was definitely not electric light. He pulled around a corner and even though the source of the light was still too far away, too deep into the forest for him to see it, he instinctively knew that it was a fire. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Forest fires weren't common around Chicago but this fire was huge and bright enough that it must be big. Either it really was a forest fire, or it was some structure that had gone up in flames. Nathan thought about stopping or at least slowing down to try to determine the cause of the fire, but he knew all too well that that would probably not be a good idea. After all, Chicago had its fair share of Mob-related activity. This was a city where you could easily disappear if you saw the wrong things. Getting involved in anything that caused things to burn down in the middle of the forest seemed like a pretty bad idea in Nathan’s eyes.

He drove on, eyes focused more intensely on the road. He felt uncomfortably aware of how deserted the road and how expensive his car was. His car's open sides were nice on a hot summer night, the breeze cooling him down while everyone else was dying of heat strokes, but driving over some dirt road in the middle of the night was a very different affair when the only thing protecting you from the outside world was a curtain. A man stepped into Nathan’s headlights. Nathan slammed the brakes. His car came to an abrupt halt with a tortured squealing noise. Nathan's chest hit the steering wheel, knocking the air out of him. He coughed and cursed, gasping for air.

He looked up and the man was gone. Nathan froze. Did he hit the man? No, he would have felt that. What was this guy doing out here? They were in the middle of nowhere, the closest proper road less of a street and more of a gravel path, and at this time of night even the busiest highways were deserted. Nathan's chest stung. He thought of his gun – in the trunk, no way to get it now – then he thought of his flashlight – on the backseat, buried under a spare coat – and then he looked to the left.

The man was standing next to Nathan's car. His face was illuminated slightly by the headlights. He was in his shirtsleeves and his clothes were wet, as if he had spilled something on them. Nathan felt a flash of relief at the liquid not being dark enough to be blood. Even in the dim light he could see that the man's face was dripping with sweat, his hair sticking to his face. Part of Nathan tried to reason that maybe this man, too, was only here because he saw the fire, maybe he was hurt, but this was Chicago, nobody showed up hurt in the middle of the woods at night unless they were involved in something terrible.

Before Nathan could ponder the situation any further, his thoughts were interrupted by a gun in his face.

 

Richard Loeb had spent all day – like any good law-abiding citizen – looking forward to committing arson. He had stumbled upon an old shack in the marshes a few weeks ago. As far as he could find out, it had been a popular spot for youngsters back in the day but over time had fallen into disuse as it wasn't exactly in an easily reachable place. In recent years somebody seemed to have converted it to a makeshift bootlegging hideout, and on his latest trip there, Richard had happily taken all the alcohol he had been able to carry. It would have been a shame to let all that booze go to waste.

What made his heart beat faster and his palms feel sweaty when he thought of burning down that particular shack was the danger of being caught. Even small bootlegging operations were often heavily guarded. It would be the ultimate proof of his criminal skills: if he messed up, it was entirely possible for him to end up dead.

He had planned it all in perfect detail, and so far everything had gone just as he had wanted it to. To avoid any possibility of identification he had stolen a car, driven it out to the forest and hiked to the building. He carried two canisters of gasoline with him. It wasn't far but the night was hot and by the time he got there, he was sweating. He wiped his face, rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

 

The fire was loud and hot and beautiful and Richard sat at the edge of the clearing, admiring his work. He had spilled gasoline on his shirt and was covered in ashes but other than that everything had gone just according to plan. He had bested the bootleggers, possibly even the mafia.

The sound of a car approaching pulled him out his daydreams. He held his breath. There it was, clear as day. He crept up to the road. He couldn't hide the fire, but at least he could hide himself.

It definitely weren't the bootleggers, judging from the way the guy behind the wheel seemed unsure of whether to slow down or just drive on. Richard paused to think. He could just let the guy go. He'd probably call the police or the fire department, but by the time they got there, Richard would be long gone. On the other hand, it was night, they were alone, the guy looked pretty small, and the car looked expensive and fun to drive. And Richard did have a gun. Wouldn't it be the crowning finale to his evening, holding up a man and stealing his car? But if things went wrong he'd be in trouble. He couldn't just shoot someone, not like that, not without any planning. At least if he did, surely nobody would hear the gunshot out here, not when there weren't even any people close enough to see the fire. Maybe he could burn the corpse afterwards, make it look like the man was connected to the bootlegging somehow. The car had almost passed him. Time was running out. Richard decided to go for it.

Richard’s heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His hands were shaking. He hoped the man couldn't see it. He pulled the gun out. The man behind the wheel immediately put his hands up. “Get out of the car,” Richard said. The man didn't answer, just moved to open the door. Just as the man’s hand reached the door handle, he looked up and made eye contact with Richard. The man froze.

“Richard Loeb?” the man said. Richard almost shot him out of surprise.

Richard lowered his gun. He did not recognize the boy, but he obviously knew Richard. This was not a situation Richard had prepared for. Not knowing what else to do, he raised his gun again. The boy immediately put his hands back up and, looking like he was uncomfortably aware of the danger he was in, slowly removed his hat.

“Leopold,” the boy said, eliciting no reaction from Richard. “Nathan Leopold?” he tried again. “Law? I, uh, I sit behind you in two classes?” Something in Richard's brain clicked. He had seen the bug-eyed boy around, of course, how had he not recognized him and his awkward looks immediately? Richard lowered the gun again, both him and Nathan visibly surprised by this development. Meeting a classmate in the middle of the woods was one thing, but holding one up was another.

It took Richard several seconds to restart his brain. He couldn’t believe it, not only did he get caught but he got caught by one of his fellow students. There was nothing he could do about it now. The only option he had left was to just deal with it. But how? This wasn’t something that had even remotely come up in his plans. The boy – _Nathan_ – was probably going to talk, which would mean trouble. As long as Richard could prevent him from doing so, Richard would be fine.

Richard straightened his back. Seemed like it was time to put the mob leader persona to the test. Before he could even get a word out, Nathan interrupted him.

“Need a ride?” Nathan asked. His voice was shaking. There was something in his voice that Richard could not quite put a finger on. Of course Richard didn’t need a ride, and he was sure that Nathan knew that, but at this point Richard was so confused by this whole encounter that he couldn’t decline his offer. He hadn't left anything in the other car so there was no risk in leaving it behind. At least he could be safe in the knowledge that if anybody saw them on their way home it would implicate Nathan instead of him.

 

The drive into town was kind of awkward.

Richard was still pointing the gun at Nathan. It took Nathan several attempts until he finally dared to remove his hands from the steering wheel long enough to point towards the back seat. “I have a water bottle somewhere, you want to…?” He gestured towards Richard’s face. Richard twisted around, eyes constantly going from the back seat to Nathan and back. He grabbed the bottle, opened it and splashed the water on his face. He rubbed his face and neck with his shirt until the worst of the ash had come off.

Richard's clothes smelled rather noticeably of sweat and smoke and kerosene. The smell would repulse Nathan in any other context but smelled inexplicably intoxicating on Richard's skin. He would have to clean the car seats afterwards because Richard was getting ash and dirt everywhere, but that was something future him would have to worry about.

Nathan tried to be bold. “What was that fire?” he asked. Richard groaned and shifted so that he faced towards the passenger window instead of the windshield.

“Just keep driving.”

Turned out polite conversation was difficult when one partner was low-key threatening to shoot the other at a moment’s notice. The steering wheel under Nathan’s fingers felt damp from sweat. His heart fluttered whenever he looked over at Richard, but not for the reason Richard was probably thinking.

“How long have you been doing this for?” Nathan tried again, trying his best to not sound like he was desperate for more information. The only response Richard gave was pulling up his feet and settling into the seat. Nathan glanced at Richard’s shoes and frowned. "You're getting mud on the seats.” Richard sneered bitterly and kept his feet up on the seat. The wind was beginning to pick up. They passed the first street lamp. They were getting closer to the city. Richard was still sulking. “Do you know Nietzsche?” Nathan asked. Richard looked at him. Nathan seemed strangely fidgety in his seat.

“Does this really seem like an adequate time for small talk to you?”

“According to Nietzsche,” Nathan continued, speaking quickly and firmly, “the _Übermensch_ – the superman – is, due to his superiority to the masses, above all common law.”

“What are you trying to say?” The car slowed down for a moment as Nathan almost lifted his foot from the gas pedal. He took a deep breath.

“You're the superman.” Richard burst into laughter. “No, really, you're tall and handsome and intelligent, you're superior in every way.”

“What if I told you I killed a man?” It was a blatant lie, but it wasn't like Leopold knew that. Nathan sucked in a sharp breath that made Richard very curious about what was going on in his head. His words shook as they came from his mouth.

“Then I'd tell you that you had the right to do so.”

 

“Do you want me to drop you off at your house?” Nathan asked as he pulled into Hyde Park Boulevard.

“You know where I live,” Richard stated flatly. Nathan breathed amusedly.

“I don't think anyone in the neighborhood doesn't know about the Loebs and their prodigal son.” Richard squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Fuck, ok, whatever, just drop me off near my house, I don't want to wake anyone up.” Nathan hummed in agreement as he pulled into Ellis Avenue and slowed down. He glanced at Richard.

“What’s it like?” Nathan asked and stopped the car.

“What do you mean?”

“Killing somebody.”

“That,” Richard said as he reached for the door, “is none of your business.”

“I’m not going to go to the police, you know.” Richard scoffed.

“Sure, pal, tell that to the judge.” Nathan turned to face him, eyes halfway between stern and pleading. He was still holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, as if that could give him the strength to say what he really wanted to say.

“I mean it. And I meant what I said, about Nietzsche I mean.” He hesitated for a second. “Can I see you again?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, can I –” Nathan’s hand was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. “I want to know more about you, about whatever it is you do that leaves you stranded in a forest in the middle of the night covered in gasoline and ashes.” Richard scoffed, but it was nowhere near as scalding as before. He couldn't believe it, but he was actually starting to grow fond of this skittish boy. His awkward nervousness was new and fascinating and kind of adorable. He looked Nathan up and down.

“You good at following orders?” Nathan’s hand relaxed. He dared to crack a smile.

“The best.”

“Well, shit.” Richard’s voice was soft, like he was trying to hide a smile. He looked out the window for a few seconds. “I’ve got plans for tomorrow, meet some friends, grab a few drinks. You want to come?”

“As long as there are no guns involved.”

“No promises,” Richard said and grinned. Nathan smiled back, and his heart felt warm.


End file.
